Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
The feeling of his lips on mine makes it all go away, even for just an instant.
“I’ve got a lot of work to do,” he says near my lips as he pulls back a moment later. “I’m not sleeping tonight.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m going to find out who left those notes for the Confessional.”
His hand is gone now.
And I miss it.
When I glance up at myself in the mirror, I see a ruddy streak of blood on my neck, now. His blood, streaked along my skin because it was all over both of his hands.
“It feels impossible. It feels like we’re never going to be able to fix this. Never going to find who it is until they’re already attacking us.”
Hunter is silent for a moment.
He’s stretching out his hand, trying to get a feel for his movement underneath the gauze.
“Is my brother okay?” he finally asks.
And there it is.
A shred of proof.
Proof that Hunter cares.
That he’s not some purely cold, calculating monster. He doesn’t want his brother dead, and that means something.
“No. But he will be. Eventually.”
“Always wondered if he loved you,” Hunter murmurs, still looking down at his gauzed hand.
“He does. But I don’t think he was in love with me. Not that it matters, anyway.”
“Why doesn’t it matter?”
“Because he can’t have me,” I tell him, meeting his eyes before I leave the bathroom. “I belong to someone else.”
22
Hunter
Things were never simple, really.
But it seems like they were.
In my memory.
The fire inside me was just too much—the rage, the pain, the all-consuming desire to inflict pain in a world that only hurt.
My whole world was hostile.
And I wasn’t afraid of fighting back.
In the flames there was too much feeling, too much emotion, too much reality. Raw like an open wound. A fire that burned.
And so I snuffed it out.
Until my whole world was covered in ash.
Cold.
Lifeless.
It was easier when I was completely alone, but now I see there’s still an ember smoldering in that fire.
A red little ember, ready to catch kindling.
Ready to erupt into flame and consume me whole.
I drop my binoculars, leaning my head back as the first snowflakes of the season fall along my face.
It doesn’t even feel cold enough to snow.
The air is still, especially here in the cluster of trees at the top of the hill above Red Row.
I have a perfect view of the back and side of the Double Daggers house, and over the past two hours, I haven’t seen a goddamned thing.
I raise my binoculars again, looking all around their yard and in through the large back window of their house. A few snowflakes hit the glass, making blurred spots in the image.
It’s like every member of Double Daggers has a squeaky-clean public image and not a shred of dirt on him.
I’ve researched their online presence for the last three days, and it’s turned up nothing. Double Daggers have been a secret society for longer than Onyx, and by all accounts, they should have more skeletons in their closets. But they don’t.
Luros is only more of the same.
The girls have a sorority that’s meant to help them succeed in the world, and all of the information I can find about them practically makes them look like saints.
The guys in Onyx, especially Roman and one of his buddies, love to talk about the past “wars” between the three secret societies, but I can’t find anything on that, either.
I know I need to talk to Roman.
But something about him makes me uncomfortable, too.
I left London to escape a crime family, and I’m not exactly in the market of getting within an inch of another one. I work better alone.
The snowflakes are getting fatter and wetter now, and I’m getting nowhere trying to spy on Double Daggers. I drop the binoculars again, stuffing them into my black backpack and standing up.
When I check my phone, Rayne’s message gives me a dull ache in my chest.
Tell me you’re okay.
Every time I hear from him I feel like I’m holding my breath. Like I’ve been holding my breath for so long that my lungs are starting to burn.
Actually, it’s more like I can’t fucking breathe.
It’s bad to want things.
It’s a mistake to get close, or let anyone in.
And Rayne’s so far behind my walls that it’s starting to feel like he belongs there.
I’m never okay. Want to ask me a different question?
I want to ask you to stay close to me every moment of the day. Now I know why you felt the need to stalk me to protect me.
I don’t need anyone’s protection but my own.
I caught you off guard with a slap. Better not let an actual attacker surprise you like that.
You’re mouthy ever since you admitted you’re mine.
Going to punish me?
Quit distracting me.
If we’re going to die anyway, I want to go out like this.